Shattered
by Abschiedsbrief
Summary: Harry Potter finds himself locked up at the Malfoy estate. What is he doing there? PG-13 for angst, mostly. Will become SLASH. Unfinished.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything you may recognize in this story. The characters belong to J.K.R and not me. If they were mine, my days were slashier and merrier.

**Note:** Thanks to all the fabulous friends who read this story and helped me. Dana, you're the greatest.

This story was written by a non-English speaker. So please forgive me in advance.

Also, it will become SLASH. Meaning, it will have a male/male relationship in it. If you're against these things, kindly stop reading right about now.

There will be more chapters to come.

Please review!

Enjoy!

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_"…__My heart is shattered, soon it will break apart_

_stifling my tears, I laugh day after day..."_

* * *

"Can I have a glass of water?"

The question rang in the silence of the room. He asked it again, louder this time, and once again, there was no answer. The room was almost empty. Besides the barred cell in which he was sitting, that had nothing but a bed and a chair inside it, it was completely empty.

The question was shot to the air again, more demanding this time, and the silence of the gloomy, wet dungeon shattered again, this time to the sound of footsteps moving towards him. He couldn't see who it was, it was too dark. But as the other person approached, he saw a glimpse of silver-blond in the darkness.

"Please..." he asked again, tired."A glass of water..."

He heard the cell's door crick open and a dusty glass of water was placed on the floor. He picked it up with both hands and drank the water eagerly. With his filthy sleeve, he wiped his mouth and placed the glass down. "Thank you."

He heard a soft sigh and the other person in the room moved closer. He could almost see who it was, although he already knew.

"Don't push your luck, Potter." Said the other person, and moved even closer. The silvery blond hair glimmered in the dim light, as the heir of the Malfoy line stood there, before him.

Harry let out a soft sigh and pulled himself up to a standing position. He was taller than the other, and his jet black hair seemed messier than ever. He moved closer, facing the blond, slim boy.

"Father isn't pleased with you, Potter." The boy informed in his usual drawling tone.

Harry shrugged. He was filthy and weak, being locked up in that cell for almost a week.

"I did as he asked, Malfoy." Said Harry, his tone clear of all emotion. He grabbed the bars of the cell with both hands, staring at the boy on the other side of them.

"He wants you to announce you're joining the dark lord's side, Potter." Said the other, his hands crossed over his chest. Harry shook his head faintly.

"You know I'll never do that, Malfoy." His voice wasn't as fragile and quiet as before. The blond moved his hands to the pockets of his black leather pants.

"You're being silly and petty, Potter. Just do it and join the dark lord. They'll free you."

Harry shook his head again, his face blank and his voice quiet. His shoulders dropped and he let go of the bars, his hand dangled at the sides of his body. He looked at his feet. "I will never, ever, betray my friends, Malfoy. I will _never _betray the memory of my parents. So you can go and tell your father Harry Potter said no."

The other shook his head and a small sigh escaped his lips. He dropped his hands, mimicking Harry's movement. He looked at him, the gloom light of the torches reflected in his grey eyes. He looked at Harry for a couple of minutes and then opened his mouth and spoke.

"You're over sentimental, Potter. But it's your decision. I think you're wrong." He shrugged slightly.

"Oh, you _think_, Malfoy? There's a first time for everything, I guess." Harry turned around and walked over to the hard bed. He lied there, on his back, staring at the ceiling. He heard the other walk away, slamming the dungeon door behind him.

It was the third week of Harry's capturing. He was lying on his back in his gloomy cell. He felt like an Azkaban prisoner. He had his own dementor inside his head, and it was the only one he couldn't defeat with the simple call of a spell.

The door slammed open and the slender form of Draco Malfoy appeared at the doorway. He walked towards Harry, with a big key dangling from his hand. He approached the cell and unlocked the door.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Questioned Harry, not even bothering to look at the other. The blond boy didn't come inside. He just stood at the door and looked at Harry.

"Father's inviting you to dinner, Potter. Come here."

"I think I'll pass the invitation, Malfoy. Thanks."

"Don't be silly, Potter. He'll kill you if you'll refuse."

"He'll kill me either way, Malfoy. Besides, I don't care if he will. I'll be better off dead than locked down here." He finally turned his bright green gaze to the other, and looked at him, sideways. The smaller, thinner boy moved inside the cell and stood beside Harry's bed, where the black haired boy lied. He looked at the filthy boy and shook his head.

"I don't understand you, Potter. You can have it all, on the dark lord's side. Fame, powers beyond imagination... You can have them all! He'll give you everything, and you know it. Why are you resisting?"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He couldn't explain it to the other. He'll never understand. When he opened his eyes again after a minute to look at the other, there was a strange mixture of sadness and tiredness in the emerald orbs.

"There are more important things than power and fame, Malfoy."

The other shrugged and took out his wand, pointing it directly at Harry. "Some important friends of my father are coming to see you tonight. He said I can cast any spell to get you to that dinner, Potter."

Harry sat up in his bed and looked at the other, running his hand through his filthy hair. "Imperius doesn't work on me, Malfoy. And I'm not in a suitable condition to face important friends, now am I?"

The Slytherin moved over and sized Harry's upper arm, pulling him to a standing position. He was still holding him as he walked him over to the door of the cell and to the dungeon door.

"You'll go, Potter. Whether you like it or not. I'll give you clothes, and you will not try any dirty tricks." He pulled harder and led him out of the dungeon. For the first time in a month, Harry saw the place he was kept in. He arrived with his eyes covered, so he couldn't see. He knew he was kept inside the Malfoy manor. There was no other reason for the blond boy's visits if he wasn't. The heir of the Malfoy family, Slytherin's ice prince, was the one taking care of Harry when he was locked up. It was the middle of July. In a month he'll have to go back to Hogwarts. He must be freed. They'll know something's wrong if he won't. Hermione'll know for sure.

* * *

The Malfoy manor was a huge estate, located at the north of England. It was located on the top of a mountain, and could be seen only by wizards and witches. Any muggle coming across it would see nothing but an old, unsettled dump, locked up. It was well protected even from the wizarding world. All sorts of charms and spells were set upon it, making it unbreakable. You were lucky to stumble upon the estate only if you were a friend or a family member. The manor was known for its wealthy, well-known tenants, thus many people tried to befriend the family members.

The father of the family, Lucius Augustus Malfoy, was a vicious, sleek man, who believed that "Oderint dum metuant – Let them hate, as long as they fear", is the way to handle his surroundings. His wife, Narcissa Black Malfoy was from the respected Black family. Many respected and honored death-eaters came from that family, and Narcissa, like a good girl, married one. She feared her husband, and pitied her son, as she saw his fate, but said nothing. There was no love at the Malfoy manor.

The son, Draco Lucius Thomas Hephaestus the III was the only heir of the family. He had almost the identical looks of his father. The same sleek silver-blond hair, falling down to his shoulders, and those grey-silver eyes, that the Malfoys passed on in generations. He was the family's hope, to become powerful and successful at the dark lord's side. The boy himself wasn't so keen on becoming He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named servant, but he never, even once, considered refusing his father's wishes.

* * *

"Where are we going, Malfoy?" Asked Harry as they crossed corridors and climbed staircases. The other led him to a big wooden door, with a big wooden plate with the sign of a serpent painted across it, and the saying 'Primus a Primus' written beneath the serpent. Harry looked at it, and frowned. The other pulled out his wand, and tapped it on the door, which clicked and opened, revealing a large room.

"My room, Potter."


End file.
